Her head shakes back and forth. “No, he’s at the farm! I swear, he didn’t send me!” I can tell from her expression that his grip must be tighter than what’s comfortable.
“We’ve known each other a long time, Margaret. Don’t forget, I’m the keeper of the secrets.”
Margaret pulls free from him and steps back. “I better go. He’ll be expecting me soon.”
My gut twists and my head throbs.
Bile starts up my throat. I rush to the bucket and throw up everything in my stomach until I’m dry heaving. Sweat breaks out all over my body and I feel clammy. It takes a while before I can crawl back to my chair.
By the time I pick the tablet back up, Margaret is gone and Ben is back in his office, working as if he doesn’t have a care in the world while I’m in the attic feeling like mine just blew apart.
I’m so dumb. So, so dumb. On the phone earlier he said he had a couple of meetings before going to Foster’s and my stomach drops thinking about who will show up next. I’m not sure I can handle learning anything else about Ben or my family.
His phone rings. “Yeah.” He leans back in his chair while he listens to the caller. “Take a picture and send it to me.”
The call ends. I can’t see the phone screen from this angle but it seems like he’s waiting for the image he requested to come through. It’s obvious when he finally gets whatever it is because he sits up in his chair.
He stares at his phone for a long moment then taps on his screen, his movements a bit frantic. A few minutes later, he lifts the phone back to his ear. “I’m leaving the house now,” he says as soon as his call connects, then ends it just as abruptly.
I don’t know what’s calling him away but I’m grateful because I need out of this attic and out of this house before I lose my mind. Before I do something I’ll regret.
He packs up quickly, shutting down his laptop and grabbing his keys. Within minutes, I hear the telltale sounds of the garage door rising.
As soon as I hear it close again, I’m on the move. I exit the attic and run down the stairs to the first floor, straight into the kitchen, grabbing the camera. Then I sprint to his office to get the one there. Pulling the chair close, I stand on it so I can reach where I’ve hidden it in the bookshelf. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the footage I have but I’m not leaving it behind, because there’s a good chance I’m never stepping foot in this house again.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
I scream and fall, landing on the floor next to the overturned chair.
And there’s Ben, leaning against the wall, staring at the cameras on the ground next to me.
Chapter 21
Ben
Ten years ago
It takes a few minutes before the knocking wakes me up. I stumble from the bed, headed to my bedroom door, only to realize there’s no one there. Did I dream that?
Knock, knock, knock.“Ben! Open up!”
It’s coming from the window. I cross the room, still not fully awake, and pull back the curtains to see Margaret’s face.
I throw the window open. “Are you bleeding?”
Her hand goes to her forehead as she wipes the blood away. “I guess a little.” She turns and yanks Silas closer, all but shoving him through the window. “We need your help.”
It takes a few minutes of me pulling and her pushing before we get him inside. He groans when he lands on the floor, a hand going to the spot on his forehead where he’s also bleeding.
“What the hell happened to y’all?”
The call about Mom this afternoon was a shitty ending to an already shitty week, and the last thing I need at midnight on a Friday night is whatever shit Camille’s little brother and his girlfriend have gotten into.
Margaret doesn’t answer until she’s crawled through and closes the window then the curtain. “It’s bad, Ben.” She finally looks at me. “Your house was the closest place I could think to go.”
If they got into some trouble in this part of town, it’s definitely not good.
Silas is in rough shape. He barely looks conscious and there’s a steady stream of blood pouring from his forehead. His right knee is twice the size of the left one.
